


Car Trouble

by badcircuit



Series: The Chyna Chronicles [4]
Category: The Town (2010)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Come Eating, Come Shot, Cunnilingus, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, PWP, Sloppy Makeouts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-08
Updated: 2013-05-08
Packaged: 2017-12-10 20:28:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/789834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badcircuit/pseuds/badcircuit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jem Coughlin versus Chyna White, round 4.  No costume this time, just a porny ode to the Flamer, Jem’s car in Prince of Thieves.  One day I’ll write something with a plot.  Today is not that day.  I feel like since Jem didn’t get graphically laid in either The Town or PoT, I’m going to make up for it every way I can. ;)</p><p>Oops, no condoms in this one.  Practice safe sex y'all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Car Trouble

This fucked up blue Trans Am with tacky flames on it is cruising through my hood and it’s starting to creep me out.  It seems to slow down every time it passes me but that could just be me being paranoid.  I’m always very careful when I leave the club to be sure some love struck asshole doesn’t follow me home.  Plus when I’m off the clock, I don’t look much like Chyna White. 

The next time it rolls around, I’m going to flag that fucker down and rip whoever it is a new one for ruining my evening stroll.  It was supposed to be my very first evening run but I only made it about half a block before I gave up.  My tits are allergic to anything strenuous that isn’t dancing or sex.

I hear it before I see it because the exhaust is shitty too so I’m all fired up and ready to do battle.  This time it slows to a crawl and keeps pace with me for a few feet.  I veer off the sidewalk towards it when it stops and the passenger side window rolls down.

“Hey little girl, wanna go for a ride?”

Jem Coughlin.  I should have known.  Just like that my fight response flips to fuck mode.  I quit trying to justify his appeal to myself after the first time we hooked up.  He’s shady as fuck but I don’t care.  I don’t want to know what he does to get all that money he throws around in the club, I don’t care where he is when he’s not with me, I don’t want to know anything else about him because I have a feeling that down that road lies tragedy and pain and I don’t need that in my life.  All that matters to me is that he comes around every now and then to fuck my brains out.

Well, here he is again, looking at me in my baggy Fight Club t-shirt and shorts like he looked at me that first time in the club, like he was making a list of all the filthy things he was going to do to me.  Game on, fucker.

“My daddy told me not to get in cars with strangers,” I say, smirking.

“I think we know each other a little better than that,” he says with a wink.  “C’mon,” he coaxes, patting the passenger seat.

I saunter over and lean in the window, the neckline of my t-shirt gaping, giving him an eyeful.  “I don’t know.  My dad’ll be pissed if he finds out.  He says guys like you are only after one thing.”

He drags his eyes away from staring down my shirt and gives me the dirty grin I crave.  “Who’s gonna tell him?  Quit bein’ chickenshit and get in.  I know you want to.”

I glance around as if I really care who might see me sneaking off with the town badass while he reaches over to pop the door open.  I slide in and buckle up like a good girl.  “Hurry up and go,” I huff, rolling my eyes.

We ride all over town, blasting classic rock and going nowhere in particular.  I like watching him when he’s focused on driving.  His brow is furrowed in concentration and every now and then he purses his lips in annoyance and lets loose with some of the most creative swearing I’ve ever heard at someone else’s asshole move.  I like looking at his hands on the wheel and imagining what he might do to me with them this time.  I sigh and shift around in the seat, leaning out the window to cool down.

“You ok over there, daddy’s girl?” he asks, amused.

“Fine,” I say, rolling my eyes.  “Where are we going anyway?”

“Somewhere.  I wanna show you somethin’.”     

“What if I don’t want to see it,” I mutter, and he laughs.  Fuck, that laugh is like a finger flick to my clit.  I want to see, taste and feel “it” and soon.  I press my thighs together and focus on the city passing by outside.  It’s nearly dark now.  The buildings are getting sparse and there aren’t many cars on the road out here.

When we stop for a light, he reaches over, grips my knee then eases his hand up the inside of my thigh.  I want to let him keep going right up under my shorts but it’s too soon for that.  I slap his arm and snap my thighs shut.  “Just drive.”

Of course he laughs again before putting the car in neutral, hitting the brakes and flooring the gas, then dropping it into drive so that we peel out in a cloud of rubbery smoke.  I’m impressed but I can’t show it.  I summon up a yawn instead.

We turn onto a dirt road and creep along to keep the car from bottoming out in all of the ruts.   It’s dark as hell out here with no street lights and hardly any houses.  “I feel like I’m in a horror movie,” I say.  “I can’t believe I’m risking getting grounded for this.”

“Quit your bitchin’.  We’re here.”

He hangs a right in a place that doesn’t even look like a road.  The headlights illuminate an overgrown sign that announces we’re entering a municipal park.  It also says the park closes at dusk.  It’s way past dusk but there’s no gate up to stop us.      

There’s nothing much out here except a basketball court, a playground and lots of open field.  The gravel lot is empty and Jem swings the car around wide then backs up and parks so we can see anyone who might decide to join us.  I can see the city glowing in the distance but it’s quiet except for the constant song of the night insects and the tick of the cooling car engine.

I’m so ready to fuck Jem he can probably smell it over the slightly musty funk of his cluttered interior.  It would be so easy to just climb over into his lap right now but that’s not how the game goes. 

“If this is what you had to show me, I’m not impressed.”

“This ain’t it.  When I show you, you’ll know it and I promise, you’re gonna be fuckin’ blown away.”

I give him a world class side eye.  “Legend in your own mind.  And if you think you’re going to talk me into having sex with you, you can save your breath.”

He turns towards me, resting his arm on the back of my seat.  “Oh, there ain’t gonna be much talkin’.”

“Whatever.”  I cross my arms over my chest and stare out the window to keep from ripping his pants off.

“Christ, you need to fuckin’ relax.”  He plays with the thick braid trailing down my back, then tugs on it to tip my head to the side and presses a hot, open-mouthed kiss on the tender spot just behind my ear.  I can’t suppress a little shiver and he takes that as a sign to keep going, scraping his teeth down the side of my neck and sucking on my collarbone hard enough to leave a mark.  “I’m gonna help you with that.”

He keeps right on sucking and licking at my throat, which isn’t relaxing at all.  I’m squirming in the seat, trying to hold on to the bitch prude thing, trying not to moan and sigh with every swipe of his tongue and rasp of his scruffy face against my hypersensitive skin.  I want to shove his head down between my thighs but I shove it away instead.  “You’re not helping anything.  Quit putting hickeys on me, you jerk.”

“I’ll put ‘em where nobody can see.”  His eyes light up in the dark and he licks his lips as he looks at my tits and then lower. 

“Ew.  You’re so nasty, Jem.”  I try to infuse that statement with disgust but it’s a challenge.  His nastiness is my favorite thing ever.  If he’s getting me back for that Father C thing, it’s working because I may die trying to play good girl.

He shakes his head, smirking.  “You like it.  I can tell.”  He leans over until his mouth is inches from mine, his hand moving from my braid to the back of my neck to hold me in place. 

Goddamn, his lips… so close...

He plunges his other hand between my legs and I nearly spread them to give him full access before remembering my role.  I try to close them but his fingers are long and still manage to graze my soaking crotch.  The kiss I was secretly hoping for doesn’t come.  His smirk turns into a shit-eating grin.  “See?  I toldja.  You’re all hot and sticky for me.” 

“I was exercising before you so rudely interrupted, remember?  It’s just sweat.”

“I remember how good your ass looked while you were _walking_ ,” he says, laughing.  “And you’re a liar.”   

I don’t want to be a liar.  I want to cut straight to the chase and skip this sex version of chicken thing we’ve got going but that would ruin everything.  Instead, I say, “So what if I do like it, just a little.  I’m still not having sex with you, Jem Coughlin.” 

“Whatever you say.  Just let me do this one thing.  I been thinking about it.  A lot.”

Hah.  I’ve been thinking about it too, among many other things I want Jem to do to me.  “Touching me?” I say, like that’s the dirtiest thing ever. 

“What?” he says, wiggling the fingers still trapped between my thighs, “You don’t make yourself come?”

I blush hard, not because I don’t, of course, but because I do it so much lately that it’s almost embarrassing.  And my go-to spank bank highlights are all Jem.  “I didn’t say _that_.  You really think about it?”

He shifts his head and speaks in my ear, low and gritty and hot as fuck.  “All the time.  C’mon, just this once.”

“I don’t know… I really shouldn’t.  And I am kind of sweaty.”

He removes his hand from between my thighs to guide one of mine to the front of his track pants.  Commando again.  “Does that feel like I care?”

“Oh my God, Jem.”  It takes a lot to pretend I’m flustered and to not squeeze that hard perfection bucking beneath my palm.  As much as it pains me to, I try to pull my hand away and then I have to fight back a smile when he doesn’t let me.

“Just leave it there.  It ain’t gonna bite.”  He lays his hand on my stomach and traces over the sliver of skin bared between my shirt and shorts with his little finger.  “So you gonna let me?” he breathes in my ear, nuzzling my neck with his nose and sucking my earlobe.

I sigh like I really have to think about it, like I might actually say no.  “Ok.  Maybe just a little.  But only because I may have thought about it once or twice.”

“Once or twice, huh?  While you were makin’ yourself come?”  He slips his fingers under the waistbands of my shorts and panties and I part my legs just enough to make room.  “You thought about me touchin’ you like this?” 

We both let out a breath when he hits pay dirt.  “Fuck.  You’re drippin’. These gotta come off though.”  He uses both hands to work the offending bottoms down then buries his fingers in my pussy again.  “Tell me what else you been thinkin’ about me doin’.”

Oh, I like where this is heading.

“God Jem, I can’t just say stuff like that.”  I love it when he makes me do things, no matter how small. 

His hand stills and then he gives my pussy a light swat that makes me yelp with startled delight.  “Yeah you can.  Or you can show me.” 

“I may have thought about your hands here.”  I gesture vaguely at my tits.  “And your mouth.”

He slides two fingers inside me and thumbs my clit.  It’s torture to be relatively still but I’m supposed to be reluctant about this and goddammit, I’m trying to be committed to my role.  Besides, resisting makes it better.

“I been dying to get a mouthful of those.”  He pauses long enough to shove my shirt and sports bra up around my neck.  “Nice,” he says, touching a slippery finger to each nipple then sliding his seat back.  “C’mere.”

I kick one foot free of the bunched up fabric around my ankles and climb over the center console to straddle his lap.  I’m going to ruin another pair of his pants but it can’t be helped.  Too late, I realize I should have made him sweet-talk me into it but I’m way past ready to get this show on the road.

He fills his hands, and then his mouth, with my tits.  He doesn’t just focus on my nipples; he’s all over the place, licking, sucking, biting.  All I can do is grab his head with one hand and the seatback with the other and try not to moan too loud, especially when he starts putting hickeys all over my tits and belly.  Holy hell, he’s good at it but I’m going to have to bathe in makeup to cover them all for work.  “You really shouldn’t be doing that,” I gasp. 

“Fine,” he says, smirking and playing connect the dots with his tongue on all the fresh bruises he just made.  “C’mon, it’s time to show you that thing.” 

He opens the door and lifts me off his lap and out of the car.  Before I can complain about being bare-assed outside, he walks me around to the front of the car and bends me over the flame-stenciled hood.  “Anybody ever went down on you?” he grumbles in my ear.  He’s leaning over me, putting my hands where he wants them, pushing my shoulders down and tipping my hips up, and sliding his nylon covered cock up and down between my butt cheeks.

“Wha-aaa?”  My voice goes up about two octaves on that last part because suddenly he’s on his knees behind me, squeezing my ass and tracing his tongue along the seam of my puffy lips.  “Don’t do that.  I’m all gross.”  I actually said that the first time a dude went down me.  I almost laugh thinking about what a little priss I used to be and how it only took about ten seconds before I was begging for more.  I try to stand up and he pushes me right back down with a hand in the middle of my back.

“Tastes fine to me.”  He backs up that statement with a slow, flat-tongued swipe from my clit to my butt hole and some exaggerated lip smacking.  I drop my head to look at him upside down and I can’t see much of anything except the light part of his track jacket and the grey wife beater beneath it but I know he’s grinning.

“Ugh.  Do guys even like that?”

“I do.  Now shut up and lemme show you how much.”

He likes it, a lot.  If he likes it much more he may kill me and I am perfectly ok with that.  He goes from lapping, to fucking me with his tongue, to flicking my clit, to sucking as much of my pussy into his mouth as he can. 

“Jesus Christ, Jem.  I can’t…”

“Yeah, you can,” he murmurs, sucking my clit again with a groan.  He lifts one of my feet and props it on the bumper.  He adds two fingers to the mix, right where I need them, and I’m gone.

“Ok,” I pant, sprawling face first on warm hood of the car. “You win again.  I can’t keep up the whiny good girl bullshit any longer.”

“Oh, so you can dish it out but you can’t take it?”

“If I say yes, will you go ahead and fuck me?”  Rolling over and sitting up, I grab the waistband of his track pants and try to pull them down but he stops me, shifting our hands to his cock and stroking.

He laughs.  “Now you know it ain’t gonna be that easy.” 

“Ah ok,” I nod.  “Got any knee pads in this beater?  That gravel must be a bitch.”

“You would go for that.  Is suckin’ my cock like your favorite thing or what?”  He takes my chin in his other hand and traces my lips with his forefinger.

“My second favorite thing,” I say, biting down gently and touching the tip with my tongue, tasting myself.  “Just tell me what I have to do.”

He sinks his teeth into his bottom lip in that way that makes me want to tackle him.  “Beg me.”

“Seems pretty easy to me,” I say with a snort.  “Impossible to fuck up, right?”

He takes his hands off of me and steps back, crossing his arms and cocking his head.  “We’ll see.”

“Aw, come on.  You can say no to all this?”  I lean back on my elbows and spread my legs like I would on stage, like I did the first time I danced for him in the club. 

“Try me.”  He’s got a good poker face but I can see his tented track pants even in the near pitch blackness. 

“You are a bastard.  Ok, ok.”  There’s no way I can fail this.  It’s been a while and I’m all worked up.  If he could see me in better light in all of my drenched pussy, stiff-nippled glory, I wouldn’t have to say a word.  “Please fuck me, Jem.”

Nothing but raised eyebrows.

“Please.  I need you inside me.  Please.  Please?”

He scoops something up off the ground and throws it at me:  my shorts minus the panties, which he twirls on his finger before pocketing them.  “Let’s go.”

“Are you fucking kid—wait, I can do it better.”  I hop off the car and grab his arm, which is taut beneath my grip.  I can tell his whole body is tight as a rubber band stretched to the breaking point.  It won’t take much and POW, all over me.  “Give me another chance, please?”

“Better make it good.”

“Don’t I always?”  He gives me a threatening look that’s like a pinch to the clit.  I say I’m sorry but I’m not.  “I’m doing it now.  So… I did lie earlier when I said I only thought about you touching me once or twice but you know that.  You know I think about it all the time.  I imagine my hands are yours and my fingers are yours when I fuck myself but it’s not enough.  I keep getting flashbacks and I walk around all day in a horny daze.  I’m getting crazy tips at work because I look like I’m in heat.  Not a day goes by that I don’t get myself off thinking about all the fucked up things we did.  I need it, Jem.  I need you to fuck me.  This is me begging.  You want me on my knees?  Fine.”

I start to kneel but he closes those hands I dream about around my upper arms and lifts me back on to the car hood.  “You need me to fuck you how?”

I start to say _hard and deep_ or maybe _slow and long_ but it doesn’t really matter at this point.  “Any way you want to.  Whatever you want, I’ll do it.” 

“Good answer,” he says, baring his teeth in a predatory grin. 

I wrap my legs around him and pull him close while he finishes taking my shirt and bra off.  I’ve been waiting all night to slide my hands down into his pants and grab two handfuls of ass and he reciprocates, giving my tits a firm squeeze.  I push the pants off and his cock springs out, smacking him in the abs.  “Looks like I’m not the only one who needs it bad.”

“You’re done talkin’,” he says, holding my chin in one hand and reaching into his jacket pocket with the other.  I start to struggle but then I remember I did say anything and I meant it.  I open my mouth and let him stuff my panties in.  “So fuckin’ dirty.”  Yup, that’s me, just for Jem.

I nod and tighten my legs so I can writhe on him and he surprises me by picking me up by the waist and bringing me right down on his cock.  “Yeah?” he asks and I moan back enthusiastically.  I could push my panties out of my mouth with my tongue but where’s the fun in that?  Instead I get his jacket and wife beater off, hold onto his shoulders and let him take me for a rough ride.

Just when it’s getting really good, he sets me down again and pulls out but before I can complain, he goes down on me.  I sit up so fast the hood buckles beneath my hands but he doesn’t stop; he just chuckles against my pussy and I feel it in every cell of my body.  All I can do is moan and when he says, “You’re gonna owe me big for that,” I moan louder.  Fuck yes.

I’m close and of course, he knows all my signs by now so he stops and starts fucking me again.  “I can hold out a long time,” he taunts.  “You’re gonna find out tonight.”  Yes, show me, I want to say but instead I run my hands down his sweaty back, feeling his ass muscles flexing as he moves in and out.  The hood makes another horrible sound beneath us and my pussy floods as my debt to him rises.  Maybe when we get done, I’ll ask to drive back so I can total his car and he can own my ass forever.

Another switch up, more delicious torture.  He rubs his scruff all over my belly and thighs, he bites and nibbles, he adds more hickeys where no one but my gynecologist would see.  He eats my pussy like he’s got something to prove.  The only complaint I have is that I know he’s not going to let me come right now and I need to so fucking bad.  I whine around the cotton bikinis in my mouth and bang on the hood in frustration, adding another dent or two and more debt.

“You’re gonna pay for that,” he says when he finally comes up for air. 

I spit the panties out, laughing breathlessly.  “I’m counting on it.”

“I’ll figure out somethin’ you hate,” he says, grabbing me behind the knees and yanking me towards him until most of my body is hanging off the car.

“Good luck with that.”  There are only a couple of things I draw the line at and I’m pretty sure he’d agree with me.  That leaves a lot of crazy shit fair game.

He pulls me down onto his cock and all I can do is lock my arms behind me like I’m about to do triceps dips.  He’s in complete control of the depth and speed because the only parts of me touching the car are my hands but I can squeeze my pussy hard enough to make him suck in air through his gritted teeth.  Fucking Kegels for the win.

“Don’t do that.  You’re gonna make me come.”

“What, this?” I ask, squeezing again.  I smile even though he falters and nearly drops my ass on the gravel. 

“Fuck,” he growls, propelling us back onto the car hood.  “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”  Each fuck is punctuated by a thrust that’s hard enough to rock the car backward. 

“Yeah, fuck me Jem,” I whimper, finally able to fuck him back.  “Come for me.”

He does me one better.  He pulls out with a groan and comes on me, all over my pussy.  It’s cool enough outside that I can feel each warm spurt as it hits my skin and it does things to me I can’t explain.  And when he slides down and licks it off me, I come immediately, clutching at his buzzed head between my thighs and banging my head on the hood.  Oops, more damage to add to my IOU.

He climbs up over me and gives me the kiss I’d been wanting and then some, swapping spit and come and pussy juice with me.  It’s fucking perfection.

“Goddamn, dude.  You’re just…” 

“Yeah, I know.  So are you,” he says, tossing me my clothes minus the panties again.  “Time to take you home.”

I pout a little.  I’m greedy.  I didn’t even get to do my second favorite thing.

On the way back, I undo my wrecked hair and kick my shoes and socks off, sticking my feet out the window and laying back to enjoy the sweet-smelling rural breeze and the post-sex buzz.  I appreciate the fact that he doesn’t feel the need to fill the silence with small talk.  Talking complicates shit and all I want with him is to keep it simple. 

I hum along to Whole Lotta Love, watching him drive again.  When he’s not smiling, he looks like he’s ready to fuck someone up and that gets me hot.  Hell, when he breathes it gets me hot.  I shift around in my seat again and rest my foot in his lap.  He goes hard beneath it and gives me a knowing look. 

“What’re you waitin’ for?  Get the fuck over here.”

I drape myself over the cock blocking center console, peel back the track pants and take him right down.  I’m in no mood to tease.  He tastes like us, like pure sex and horny man, and I can’t get enough of him.  He slides his hand down the back of my shorts and a finger into my pussy, making me squirm and moan.

“For Christ woman, you’re gonna make me kill us.”  The car screeches to a stop and he sinks his other hand into my hair to push me down into his thrusts, his cock bumping the back of my throat and making my eyes water.

A truck rumbles past, close enough to make the car sway.  “They could see you, I bet.  You get off on that, dontcha?”  I make a desperate sound and he laughs then goes still with a groan, spilling into my mouth.  Before I can wipe my mouth, he tugs my head back and gives me another dirty kiss, cleaning himself off my lips and letting me suck his tongue.  “And you really like that.  Stop lookin’ at me that way or I might not let you go home tonight.”

He should know by now not to tempt me.

All too soon we pull up at my place.  “Thanks for the ride,” I say.  “I mean rides.”  I stroke my upper lip like I’ve got a mustache. 

He gives me that glorious laugh and a wink, palming his crotch.  “Thanks for the road head and all the rest but you still owe me for fuckin’ up the Flamer.”

“No problem,” I say, getting out and walking backwards towards my building.  “I always pay my debts.”


End file.
